WE ARE: 5 women navigating our twenties in search of peace, happiness and love (or not). WE WRITE: about everything and nothing. From the insane to the mundane- you will find different paths taken, lessons learned and lives lived. WE THINK: you’ll enjoy it...Warning: Consumption of these views may leave you enlightened while intoxicated.


The View From Here will conclude on Friday, October 1, our third year anniversary. We would like to spend this month thanking all of our readers, followers, haters, visitors, family, friends, and fans for your continued support, encouragement, and comments over these past few years. Thanks y'all!
-The Five Spot

Friday, May 7, 2010

My Eyes Are Green Cause I Eats A Lot of Vegetables

Earlier this week my cousin (another one who’s like a big brother to me) revealed that he is planning on proposing to his girlfriend this weekend. Squeaaal! He just turned 30 years old and had revealed the last time we saw each other that he was ready to settle down and have a family. So this was not a total surprise. Congrats, I said.

And then he emailed me a picture of the ring. Now why you wanna go and do that? It’s everything you would expect from an ‘every kiss begins with Kay’s’ and “he went to Jarred”, commercial. “Awww,” was my reply.

Then Wednesday night I went out with a guy friend and he talmbout how he and his ex girlfriend had rekindled and now she wants to get back together. He wasn’t so sure. Because on the one hand he feels more productive when he’s by himself and can really get on his grind work wise, but on the other hand he also likes the comfort of being in a relationship. And having someone to well you know do stuff with. And how come we as a people never address the fact that men hate to be alone? That women keep coming off as the "weak" ones cause we lament about our lack of dates, but still keep charging through this thing life - whereas this nig can't even go one month without some type of female companionship in his life. But as usual I digress. I sat and listened, keeping my thoughts to myself, but all signs pointed to them getting back together.

And then yesterday my cousin revealed that he was headed to Jamaica because that’s where he is planning on proposing. Hold up. Wait a minute! You left out that part of the story. For real though. You are going to a sunny island, with an awesome ring in your pocket, probably gonna plan some uber romantic way to propose and then propose?!? That’s how you gon’ do it? My response to him. Verbatim: Well alright. I’m fina head to church for this meeting. Then I’ma lay myself across the altar. And then head home and have a good cry. But you have fun!

And just like that without warning the green eyed monster reared its ugly head. Funny how that little bastard just pops up, like “yo yo yo it’s been a minute since we’ve seen each other. Who we hatin’ on today?” Everybody, green eyed monster. Everybody who has them a somebody. Sigh. Of course that’s not right. Of course you shouldn’t say those kinds of things. Of course you should stay positive. And know that God has something better for you. And that there’s someone out there just for you. Yeah! And whatever else is supposed to keep single women calm and away from cliffs.

But sometimes in the right now, when you don’t have a crystal ball, or real prospects, when you wake up in a house by yourself and don’t speak to a single soul until you arrive to work, when you carry the heavy load of life in your own two hands, in your pocketbook and sometimes on your back, when it’s been such a long time you forgot that you were fine, and when you’ve been alone for so long that you can’t even conceive what it would be like to be able to put down your bags and lean on someone else, it sucks. Period. Point blank. Sucks.

There are meaningful words of encouragement dispensed by friends who want only the best for you. There are pastors who deliver sermons on how God never meant for anyone to be alone that are meant to be comforting, but can sometimes have you questioning, wrestling with your own faith. And there are people who don’t understand who will tell you to buck up, get it together grouch, unball yourself from outta that corner, who can’t comprehend what exactly you’re going through (cause your life isn’t bad at all) because the truth is sometimes you can’t even comprehend that you can go through this life working, laughing, and pirouetting, thinking you are totally fine, but all this time loneliness has covertly been seeping into your insides and then working its way back out, so that by the time you realize what’s happening, you can feel it all over your body, from the hairs that stand up on your arms, to your pulsating fingertips, all the way into the polish that covers your toenails.

It is a sadness that you hope passes. And eventually it does. Brownies help. A good cry in the dark does wonders. Prayer works. Mental health days give you peace. Shifting the negative energy into something else (a hobby, exercise, a rum & coke - heh) makes you feel a wee bit better. Stuffing the green eyed monster back into his cage and putting on the padlock is a good starting place. Continuing to smile until even you believe it is so necessary. Resuming the working, laughing, and the pirouetting, so your eyes can return to their normal color.

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

Thursday, May 6, 2010

first comes baby, then comes marriage

So this guy I used to know (and kick it with) is getting married in a few weeks. When I found out, you coulda knocked me over with a feather. Sure, marriage is the new black (along with bitches and bowties on bougie black men) but dude is 24. A young 24. A just outta college still trying to figure out his life 24.

And then I heard that his girlfriend was pregnant and that might be the reason for the quick nuptials. And I couldn't stop laughing. Cause this dude used to tell me how he wasn't ready for no kids, no serious relationships, no ties till he got into and finished grad school. Or maybe it was just me.

And he's not the only person I know rushing down the aisle after the boo came up preggers. I've heard a few stories about similar situations. But really!?! Where dey do dat at? The whole "we gots to get married cause we got ourselves pregnant by accident" thing.

First off, accidental pregnancies are the unicorns that people create to explain their inability to use the beaucoup forms of birth control available to them. If you are over the age of 25 (or even 21), you aint accidentally becoming pregnant. You want that baby, somewhere in the depths of your "I'm gon make this man marry me by having his baby" soul.

Secondly, why folks still rushing to the altar to hide an unseemly bastard child? It's 2010. We've seen enough marriages disintegrate after years of making it work till the kids go to college. Don't get me wrong. If ya'll love each other and were gonna do the damn thing at some point anyway, then getting all the way turnt up together for life is fine by me.

But marrying to erase the shame just seems so 1920's. Or 1980's. Or damn sure not 2010's. It just feels like NOT the best way to start a marriage. But what do I know? I've never been married or accidentally pregnant.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

fillin' up crates

folks my office is moving and Bellini nees to pack her crates.
the movers will be here in 48 hours, so i got work to do...

i'll catch ya next week...



Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Leaving An Impression

I don’t know about ya’ll, but when I get to heaven I have a few questions that Imma need to ask. Aside from the meaning of life, why is the sky blue and who shot JFK…I just really need to know why God made men and women so undeniably different! I know a billion books have been written on this subject, but I must know how the sexes are supposed to communicate with each other when we view and process this world so differently. If the question is what is a healthy side dish-I’m saying a tossed spinach salad with the dressing on the side and he’s saying doubled fried French fries. His qualifier-that vegetables are healthy and a potato is a vegetable. Is he wrong? No. But is he right? Still no. I wondered about this communication disconnect before, but since hanging out with a male on a regular basis I feel like there must be some inside joke that no one on this side of life has been privy to the punch line. Lord, you got to let me in on the joke, because I’m not understanding!

Picture this: Fight Party 2010. The couple hosting the party invited an assortment of friends. Folks from church, work and around the way all convening with the ghetto and the fabulous! The great equalizer food, drinks and half naked men hitting each other. For any single lady this was one of those golden opportunities to meet and greet a summer boo. So these chicks come in with their low cut shirts, thigh high dresses. They have on 3” heels and oodles of makeup. Just looking too fly…in someone’s townhouse!

So after the party I’m talking to my friend about the sights and sounds of the party. I’m giving him all sorts of back story about this woman named Nigeria who I feel doesn’t really like me for whatever reason and I finally had the chance to point her out to him. So I go Nigeria is the girl who had on the blue dress.

Him: Who’s Nigeria?
Me: The girl who had on the blue dress.
Him: I don’t know who you are talking about. When did she get there?
Me: Really? Cause she was there the whole time. You know that one who was dancing by herself to the music?
Him: *puzzled face*
Me: Nigeria! Blue dress!
Him: Oh the one with the big hips?
Me: Um, yes! Nigeria.
Him: Oh. I thought you were talking about the retarded looking girl.
Me: *internal dialog with self: was the retarded looking girl wearing a blue dress?! Heck no!*

I mean at that point I could have stabbed him with a plastic spoon! I understand that men are some times color blind…but a blue dress is a blue dress. And up until this conversation I thought men being visual included all things visual, but maybe it’s just the body parts that leave a mark on the minds of men folk. And in his defense Nigeria’s hips are usually one the first things people notice because they are enormous! But because folks are raised right and learn to speak through filters, I know not to comment on such things.

At any rate my friend went on to explain that men don’t really notice clothing. They notice how you carry yourself, if you are clean, etc and what you are working with. But who or what you got on-they careth not. So the light bulb came on and I was like basically women are just dressing for each other? And he was like, exactly. And maybe this is true across the board for men folk except for the Kanye’s and Fonzworth Bentleys of the world… Or maybe this is just for my friend. But I know now that if I want to point a chick out to him I better describe her face, butt or breast…otherwise he just didn’t notice, or at least has no idea what I am talking about. Ba-dump-ching.

See You In Seven